Rhapsodic
Page 45
Next time I fall for someone, it won’t be a conniving, manipulative—
His hand moves lower, cupping my ass.
—horny fae king.
Next time it will be a good boy.
“I don’t even want kids,” I mutter.
Des just smiles.
Fairies.
Then, naturally, someone chooses that moment to turn down the hall. The Bargainer doesn’t make a move to put me down. Instead he begins walking with me wrapped around him like a koala, nodding to the fae woman as we pass her.
So awkward.
It’s not until we reach the double doors that lead to the nursery Des finally puts me down.
In this section of the palace, it’s unnaturally silent. I keep expecting to hear … something. The young are always noisy.
I reach for one of the knobs. Before I can grab it, the Bargainer catches my hand.
“Remember my words,” he says, “anything unusual happens, we’re out of here.”
I stare into those silver eyes, his chiseled features on edge.
“I remember,” I say. Shaking off his hand, I open the door.
It’s almost quieter inside the nursery than it is outside. Even the air here feels still, like everyone’s holding their breaths.
A lone servant fluffs the pillows of one of several ornate couches that rest in the sitting room. Beyond her, a set of French doors open up to a private courtyard.
She startles when she sees us, dipping into a hasty curtsy. “My king, my lady,” she says, greeting each of us, “What an unexpected surprise.”
“We’re here to see the casket children,” Des says brusquely.
Casket children—what a morbid name for them.
“Oh,” her eyes move between us. “O-of course.”
Do I detect unease?
She dips her head. “Right this way.”
As we follow her down one of the side halls that branch off the common area, I notice she discreetly cracks her fingers one by one.
“They’re fairly quiet at the moment.” Catatonic is what she means. “We’ve had to separate them from the other children. There were complaints … ” She doesn’t finish her thought. “Well, you know about that already, my king.”
“Complaints about what?” I ask.
She takes a deep breath. “That the children were feeding off the other children. We decided to move them. They don’t … prey on each other.”
As we trail behind her, stepping over some glass toys and a lyre playing a cheerful tune, I give Des a what-the-fuck look. He raises an eyebrow and shakes his head, his expression dark.
She stops at a door and knocks as she enters. “Children, you have company.”
The room we step into is cloaked in shadow, and none of the lit sconces seem to drive away the darkness. The far side of the room is made up of a wall of windows. Several children stand in front of them, staring out at the night beyond. Just like Gaelia said, none of them move a muscle. More lie on the row of beds pushed against the walls. I can’t see inside the cribs, but I know there must be infants in at least some of them.
A wet nurse sits at a rocking chair to our left, pressing a tissue against the skin just above her breast, wincing as she does so. She drops her hand, hiding the tissue in her fist when she sees me and Des, hastily standing and bowing to us each.
The Bargainer nods to her, while my eyes linger on the beads of blood forming where she’d been pressing the tissue to her skin.
“You both can leave us,” he tells the two servants.
The woman who led us here wastes no time leaving, but the wet nurse hesitates briefly, casting a fearful look about the room before she dips her head. “If you need me, I’ll be right outside,” she says, filing out. The door clicks shut behind her.
Now that the two of us are alone with all these strange children, I’m spooked, every instinct shouting at me to leave the room.
Almost as one, the children at the window begin to turn towards us.
I go cold all over at the sight.
Their eyes move to Des.
All at once they begin to scream. Not moving, just screaming. Even the babies are wailing.
Des leans in close. “I forgot to tell you—they don’t like me so much.”
You don’t say?
He steps in front of me, using his body to blockade mine, and I’m not going to lie, right about now I’m ridiculously grateful for my human shield.
You were the one that wanted to see them, Callie. Grow a backbone.
I force myself to step out from behind the Bargainer, scraping together the last of my courage.
What had Gaelia said? That strange though they may be, these were just kids.
Just kids.
I take a tentative step forward, and then another. They’re still screaming, their gazes transfixed on Des.
I begin to hum, hoping that in between kids’ love of music and my own abilities, they might stop shrieking long enough for me to actually interact with them.
All at once, the children’s eyes move to me, some of their screams hiccupping a bit as I begin to glow, the tune I hum beginning to have a magical pull to it.
And then I begin to sing. “Twinkle, twinkle, little star …”
So sue me for not being inventive.
One by one, the children stop crying and begin to watch me, mesmerized. I walk towards them, really hoping this is a good idea.
When I finish the song, the children blink, like they’re waking from a dream. I can’t glamour fae—my powers only work on beings of my world—but music doesn’t need to be controlling for it to captivate you.
His hand moves lower, cupping my ass.
—horny fae king.
Next time it will be a good boy.
“I don’t even want kids,” I mutter.
Des just smiles.
Fairies.
Then, naturally, someone chooses that moment to turn down the hall. The Bargainer doesn’t make a move to put me down. Instead he begins walking with me wrapped around him like a koala, nodding to the fae woman as we pass her.
So awkward.
It’s not until we reach the double doors that lead to the nursery Des finally puts me down.
In this section of the palace, it’s unnaturally silent. I keep expecting to hear … something. The young are always noisy.
I reach for one of the knobs. Before I can grab it, the Bargainer catches my hand.
“Remember my words,” he says, “anything unusual happens, we’re out of here.”
I stare into those silver eyes, his chiseled features on edge.
“I remember,” I say. Shaking off his hand, I open the door.
It’s almost quieter inside the nursery than it is outside. Even the air here feels still, like everyone’s holding their breaths.
A lone servant fluffs the pillows of one of several ornate couches that rest in the sitting room. Beyond her, a set of French doors open up to a private courtyard.
She startles when she sees us, dipping into a hasty curtsy. “My king, my lady,” she says, greeting each of us, “What an unexpected surprise.”
“We’re here to see the casket children,” Des says brusquely.
Casket children—what a morbid name for them.
“Oh,” her eyes move between us. “O-of course.”
Do I detect unease?
She dips her head. “Right this way.”
As we follow her down one of the side halls that branch off the common area, I notice she discreetly cracks her fingers one by one.
“They’re fairly quiet at the moment.” Catatonic is what she means. “We’ve had to separate them from the other children. There were complaints … ” She doesn’t finish her thought. “Well, you know about that already, my king.”
“Complaints about what?” I ask.
She takes a deep breath. “That the children were feeding off the other children. We decided to move them. They don’t … prey on each other.”
As we trail behind her, stepping over some glass toys and a lyre playing a cheerful tune, I give Des a what-the-fuck look. He raises an eyebrow and shakes his head, his expression dark.
She stops at a door and knocks as she enters. “Children, you have company.”
The room we step into is cloaked in shadow, and none of the lit sconces seem to drive away the darkness. The far side of the room is made up of a wall of windows. Several children stand in front of them, staring out at the night beyond. Just like Gaelia said, none of them move a muscle. More lie on the row of beds pushed against the walls. I can’t see inside the cribs, but I know there must be infants in at least some of them.
A wet nurse sits at a rocking chair to our left, pressing a tissue against the skin just above her breast, wincing as she does so. She drops her hand, hiding the tissue in her fist when she sees me and Des, hastily standing and bowing to us each.
The Bargainer nods to her, while my eyes linger on the beads of blood forming where she’d been pressing the tissue to her skin.
“You both can leave us,” he tells the two servants.
The woman who led us here wastes no time leaving, but the wet nurse hesitates briefly, casting a fearful look about the room before she dips her head. “If you need me, I’ll be right outside,” she says, filing out. The door clicks shut behind her.
Now that the two of us are alone with all these strange children, I’m spooked, every instinct shouting at me to leave the room.
Almost as one, the children at the window begin to turn towards us.
I go cold all over at the sight.
Their eyes move to Des.
All at once they begin to scream. Not moving, just screaming. Even the babies are wailing.
Des leans in close. “I forgot to tell you—they don’t like me so much.”
You don’t say?
He steps in front of me, using his body to blockade mine, and I’m not going to lie, right about now I’m ridiculously grateful for my human shield.
You were the one that wanted to see them, Callie. Grow a backbone.
I force myself to step out from behind the Bargainer, scraping together the last of my courage.
What had Gaelia said? That strange though they may be, these were just kids.
Just kids.
I take a tentative step forward, and then another. They’re still screaming, their gazes transfixed on Des.
I begin to hum, hoping that in between kids’ love of music and my own abilities, they might stop shrieking long enough for me to actually interact with them.
All at once, the children’s eyes move to me, some of their screams hiccupping a bit as I begin to glow, the tune I hum beginning to have a magical pull to it.
And then I begin to sing. “Twinkle, twinkle, little star …”
So sue me for not being inventive.
One by one, the children stop crying and begin to watch me, mesmerized. I walk towards them, really hoping this is a good idea.
When I finish the song, the children blink, like they’re waking from a dream. I can’t glamour fae—my powers only work on beings of my world—but music doesn’t need to be controlling for it to captivate you.
